Off to Leeds again, after a visit to the dentist; to get an NHS one I have to travel nearly 20 miles but it's still better, financially and in principle, than going privately. My gadding friend is away, but my other aslylum-seeker friend is in a cheerful frame of mind.

Her latest assignment at college has gone well; she almost feels that a maths test might be OK and she is looking after two lovely little girls, daughters of a friend from church. They greet me politely, but shyly, and settle down to play. We talk about this and that, just relaxed together. Not for the first time she tell me how pleased she is that Leeds Asylum Seekers Support Network introduced us and I assure her that the pleasure is a two way thing.

Next day I was on a voluntary ranger patrol in Thornton le Dale, one of the bigger settlements actually within the national park. I do a litter pick round the car park and then round the pond, very little litter and no dog mess - what a delight after a fortnight ago at Saltergate. Last time I was here, my small grandson was chasing the ducks; today they can sit on the edge of the pond in peace.

Walkers' paradise: the view towards Swainby and Whorlton from the Cleveland Way on the North York Moors.

I then decide to check out the paths round the fields on the edge of the village. Although they are in the valley these paths are still in the national park. All is well: signs, gates and stiles are in good order and there's just a bit of cutting-back to be done round some stiles. My day ends on a good note; steamed wild garlic with our meal, a couple of glasses of red wine and then we can toast the new French President, Francois Hollande. My small society can cope with austerity - I was brought up that way - but not with the intolerable unfairness of the current way that that austerity is being imposed.

As I've said before, my small society is for the extras; helping asylum seekers and ranger work on the North York Moors. The 'Big Society' stuff should be the responsibility of all of us, through national and local fair taxation.

Talking of fairness, my next engagement was a Fairtrade stall in a local church as part of a food festival. We made some sales, but I fear that most of the visitors to this particular festival had little interest in Fairtrade. Some seem to feel we are in competition with local suppliers. Hardly; I haven't seen much chocolate, coffee or tea being grown round this part of North Yorkshire. Never mind, nationally sales of Fairtrade goods are well up on previous years. On the French TGV on my recent holiday, the mini choc bar with my coffee was Fairtrade.

Fairtrade coffee beans in Uganda. Not a crop much seen on the North York Moors. Photograph: Andy Aitchison/Corbis

I catch up on emails, particularly about new hosts for Short Stop, the emergency overnight staying system, which I am co-ordinating in Leeds on Tuesday after a few weeks away or unavailable.

Much seems to have changed in that short time. When I got to Leeds and started my session, the details of the first would-beguest left me almost speechless; I will not identify the referring agency for what will become obvious reasons.

He has been refused asylum here and after much thought has taken up the Border Agency's offer of being sent back to his home country. Now you would think that this should and could happen quite quickly. After all, I can book a plane ticket to almost anywhere at the click of my mouse. But no, it can take months and meanwhile this person is left in limbo, although I believe in the Biblical limbo one did not need food, drink or a roof over one's head.

So he is dependent on charity. Of course, on some occasions people in this ridiculous situation turn to stealing for food, so then they go to prison, which is a very expensive way of dealing with someone who just wants to be put on a plane. I am sure someone will explain to me why there is this delay, but to most people it will seem insane. Anyway I find him a room for the night, and the two other referrals as well, with lovely residents of Leeds who are prepared to take in a stranger.

Finally for now, back with the Coasties on the Cleveland Way south of Scarborough. The luck of the Coasties holds again; when we start work at 10am there is still a thick sea fret but fifteen minutes later it has cleared, the sun is shining and we are taking off our fleeces and jumpers.

Windhover - the magnificent kestrel. Photograph: Shay Connolly/PA

While the strong people are repairing steps, I am sent off to do a light prune. Now in the National Park offices, a 'Coasties Cut' means something major - a big, big cutting-back, sometimes in extreme circumstances over a metre of blackthorn, right down to the ground! But that is in the autumn and winter; now I must be sainty, careful and aware of nesting birds. So I have a lovely time, wandering south along the footpath trimming here and there where the shrubs are intruding just a little too much onto the path. I can be more vicious and I am with the brambles. But this is mostly hawthorn in blossom whose strange, sour smell fills the air.

After a while I reach the cliff edge where the gorse is in flower, a few people are on the beach, a long way down - and then I see a hovering bird of prey, at cliff level. The plumage is reddy brown; it is a kestrel, seen an unusual and fascinating angle before it plummets to the beach and then swoops off.